Of Gods and Men
by RinnzleR
Summary: Three rings, three men. Three Gods and three destinies. All of these tie together in one big universe. When Royce Torres, Kyle Pierce and Willliam Braun all get transported to a different dimension, they must try to survive until they figure out a way to get home. But when the rings give these men unimaginable powers, will they actually want to go home?
1. Chapter 1

_"Royce, stop it!" Kyle shouted at the top of his lungs.__  
__But that was all he could do. Shout with the remainder of his energy. With both legs shattered, his Peace Maker too far out of his reach and Shepard getting civilians to safety, there was nothing stopping his friend. Tears welled up in Kyle's eyes as he watched Royce drain the life force out of William.__  
__William, one of the strongest men he had ever seen, was now reduced to a frail, weakened mess. His cheeks sunken in and his eyes hollow, William glared into the eyes of his former best friend, who in return flashed his trademark shark grin. This man was not his friend, nor was he ever. If he was to die like this, he'd die by Loki's hand, not by Royce's. William closed his eyes for the last time.__  
__"Royce!"__  
__Many months earlier….__  
_  
**Part One: The Peacemaker**

_Chapter 1: Kyle_

I never knew the rain could beat down on us this hard in Florida.  
It's 10:53 AM, October 31st, 2022, my birthday. The weather forecast had said that there'd be some heavy rain this morning, but never has it rained _this hard_, and on my _birthday _of all days. I pulled my orange hood up on top of my wet blue hat and picked up the pace, my bag getting wetter and wetter, jeans soaked and shoes squishy as jell-o. William's house was a few blocks away from mine, so you'd think I wouldn't be complaining.

Sorry, sorry. Where are my manners, right? I think a formal introduction is in order.

My name's Kyle. Kyle Pierce if you're feeling fancy. For a 24 year old kid, I've made quite the living. I don't mean to brag, but you can call me a mechanical prodigy. Graduated high school at 16, then went to college to study engineering, mechanics. Hell, even quantum physics. I breezed right on through those four years, living by myself. Kinda got tired of school, so I moved back home with my Mom and baby sister, Zoey. Money was tight for those two after I was sent to college. You'd think this "mechanical prodigy" would have gotten a scholarship. With Zoey only seven years old and Mom working three low paying jobs, the two of them couldn't go on without me. Throughout college, I sent many of my inventions back home for Mom to sell. Zoey couldn't sell anything, since she had developed a case of Vrolik's Syndrome, Osteogenesis Imperfecta if you're feeling fancy, and no one wanted to buy anything from a woman in her early forties that couldn't explain how it worked. I took my toys down to a local museum, hoping someone would walk up to me and, in a fancy Englishman accent, ask me, 'Excuse me, fine lad. What is that peculiar contraption you have in your hand?' And I'd tell him, 'Sir, this here is the KP -77. Hoverboard, if you don't feel like saying KP-77.'

That's exactly what happened. Of course, I didn't get a man with an English accent. Come to think of it, the woman didn't even have the accent.  
No, just an ordinary woman interested in my machine. She wanted to know how it what it did and if I could make more. Her name was Lauren Braun, Chief of Crestview Police Department, and she wanted to know if I could make any more HKs. To be honest, she really wanted to see if I could make anything that would benefit her workforce. I told her that I could, but making one took a large amount of work, and an even larger amount of materials. She said that she and her husband would take care of that, and all I had to do was just build the stuff. That's how I met William Braun. William was a tall, stocky African American guy. Nice haircut and an awesome goatee. Will was Mrs. Braun's husband, and he worked in the judicial branch of government. He was a cop of Crestview Police, had a strong sense sense of heart, wanted justice to be served no matter what and knew how to handle an assortment of guns. After I had discussed business with his wife, Will took me down to Starbucks, where we got to know each other a little more. 'If you're going to be working with my wife, I gotta know something about you, K.'. That was his nickname for me. Like Agent K from Men in Black. We talked for hours; him telling me about how many cases he solved and who he busted along the way, me telling him about my time in college. Good times, I might add. Didn't want the man to think I was a sex-crazed runt that would hit on his wife. We've been good friends since then.  
Yes, a twenty-four year old genius became good, no, best friends with a forty-year old cop after some coffee. What can I say? Frappuccino brings people together.  
I've made hoverboards, hovercrafts, weapons that no longer needed bullets or shells and lots of other things that benefited not just the CPD, but all of America. There were many more people interested in working with me, and soon I was being paid in the millions every couple of months. Life was good for me and my family. We managed to buy a new house and paid off those annoying student loans. Yes, life was _very_ good.

But enough about my origins.

Lauren and William lived in an average sized home. It had a chimney, a two car garage and a nice green lawn. Add a white picket fence and they'd have something that resembled the classic American Dream.  
I jogged up to the porch, admiring the sexy Venom GT Bugatti in the driveway and let myself in. They wouldn't mind a short, soaked to the bone hooded figure busting into storming into their front door on a rainy Halloween night. William was sitting in his red leather recliner, sporting a red plaid shirt with a brown sweater on top, along with some jeans and loafers (oh dear God) and watching some sports when I came in. He turned his head towards me and smiled.

"K! My boy! Come on in, come right on in. Happy birthday to us, right?" He stood up from his chair and shook my outstretched wet hand.

I forgot to mention that I share a birthday with my best friend. Well, my two best friends.

"Where's Royce? He late or something?" I asked, denying the couch and sitting on the hardwood floor, leaning against the couch. Pulling off my hood and taking off my hat, I smoothed back my brown hair, getting some water out and onto the floor. William had gone into the kitchen to get something. Hopefully some lemonade.  
"Royce is in the bathroom trying to dry that jacket of his with Lauren's hair-dryer." the detective called back, "He should be out by now."  
I couldn't help but chuckle at that. Royce took pride in his appearance. He always made sure his slick raven hair was in his preferred style, if his pants never sagged and if he always had his shoes tied. But if there was one thing that man made sure was one-hundred percent clean twenty-four/seven, it was his tailored jacket. It cost him a fortune to have that thing made, so he wanted it spotless wherever he went. The thing is, Royce collects a lot of jackets, yet he'll only wear his favorite. I can't blame the man, since I like to collect hats.

And no one messes with my hats.

William came out of the kitchen holding a tray with three drinks: a glass of pink lemonade for me, a tall can of MONSTER for Royce and a Coke for Will himself. He set the tray down on the coffee table, grabbing his soda, then reclined back in his chair. I took the glass of lemonade and had a small sip. We didn't bother touching the energy drink. Royce gets really emotional when anyone takes his drinks.

And by emotional, I mean bat-** crazy.

And speaking of Royce, here he comes now.

Royce Torres. Thirty-six year old dude. Slick, black hair styled into a faux-hawk, with soul piercing green eyes. That was a rare and beautiful trait these days. He had smooth, white skin with a pretty silly soul patch on his chin. I met Royce through William. We had just come out of a movie theater,and we were just about to cross the street when eight cars flew past us at breakneck speed. William had grabbed me just in time as the first car had almost made me kick the bucket. He snarled as he pulled out his iPhone 10S, dialed a number and raised the phone to his ear.

"Damn it, Torres! You almost hit me and Kyle!"

A pause.

"Yes, that was me standing with the kid. Listen, I knew you were having a street race today, which, may I remind you, is illegal. There's a blockade set up at the end of the road you and your boys are racing down. I advise you to pull out an- YES! Lose the damn race if you don't want to go to jail for the third time in the past two years! Meet me down at the Plaza." William and I crossed the street and got into his Humvee and drove down to the rendezvous. That was my first time meeting Royce. He was a little taller than me, had black spiky hair and was wearing a white dress shirt, green tie and vest, with faded jeans. The man didn't look too happy. He stormed up to William and gave him a quick jab to the gut. William didn't look that hurt, but he did let out a grunt. Probably out of irritation.

"You let the cops know, didn't you? You little slime! I trusted you will my races, and you just go and spit it out to your wife!" He turned towards me and stuck a finger in my face.

"And who the fuck is this *fucking blueberry!? Get him the fuck out of here!"

"Jesus, man! Calm down!" I yelled at him, slapping his hand away from me. This Royce character has anger issues. Some serious anger issues. William, thank God, stepped in between us, hands on our chests. I didn't see why he was holding me back, I'm a damn pacifist. He told Royce to back down, get in his car and drive home. The raven haired man gave his friend one of the ugliest looks I've ever seen, then slithered back to his car. I think it was a green Camaro ZL1. I couldn't admire all the details as he drove off. Will and I went back to his car, and he dropped me off at my place.  
You'd think that Royce and I wouldn't become friends after that encounter, even though I didn't do a single thing to him. But one day his car broke down and no one in his remaining crew knew how to fix their bosses car, so William got me to fix it. Royce treated me like a brother after that. He really loves his car.

Back to present times, though.

As usual, he was rocking his favorite black and green edged tailored jacket, along with some black slacks and green Converse sneakers. He flashed us a shark toothed grin as he smoothed his jacket down.

"Baby looks good, doesn't she? Ah, I hate the rain. Everytime it rains my jacket gets jacked up. fucking hell, man." His grin morphs into a snarl when he continues to smooth his jacket.

"Hello? What, no, 'Hey, Kyle. Happy birthday!'?" I ask, faking offense. Double points by placing my hand above my heart and making a face of sadness. Royce responded by giving me three quick jabs to the back of the head, and that hurt. Like a motherfucker!

"I owe you twenty-one more. Remind me."

"I don't see you punching William, man!"  
William laughed, "Because he knows I'd drop kick his ass into next week, then have him arrested for attempted assault on a cop."

We all laughed at that. It was then that I remembered my bag.

"Hey, I got you dudes presents." I said, praying to God that my gifts didn't get soaked in the rain. My hands hit something hard, and I pulled it out, showing it to William. His face was all I needed to see from him.

"Will, I know how much you like that old show Breaking Bad, so I got ya this." It was a medium-sized statue of the show protagonist. "This guys name was Walter White. That is his name, right?" I handed the statue to him, and he took it with a large grin plastered on his face. He nodded to me, got up from his recliner, and went to his room. Royce was looking at me expectantly, and I sighed. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out a pair of black leather gloves. D22S Fingerless Gloves, if you're feeling fancy. Yes, I have a lot of money, and no, I'm not cheap. Royce drives fast cars, so his hands are bound to get sweaty. He snatched the gloves right out of my hands and put them on. He flexed his hands, then gave me a half-hearted smack on the back of my head.  
He usually shows his gratitude to me physically, the **.  
"So, what did you get me?" I asked, standing up and stretching my legs. William came back into the living room, holding a box. He nodded at Royce, who nodded back.  
"See that car outside?" William asked me, handing over the box. I opened it, confused at what I was looking at. Pulling out the keys, I dangled them in front of my friends' faces.  
"So, what, this is it? Some key? To what...no. NO! Are you two serious right now!?" I asked them, barely able to hold in my excitement. The two men nodded, and I pulled my hood back on my head, rushing outside to see my car.  
Hours later...  
4:18 PM  
Lauren had returned from wherever she had went right as I finished fanning over my car. When she finished getting drinks out for us men, I took her on a little drive around the neighborhood. We both enjoyed it, laughing when we pulled up into her driveway and she took that moment as an opportunity to give me my present. She opened a small blue box and pulled out what looked like a ring. The moment I saw it, something compelled me to just take it. I slipped the ring down on my right ring finger and admired it in the light. I felt something, and I don't know what it was, but I decided to ignore it.  
"Where did you get this, Lauren? It's beautiful..." I asked, absentmindedly getting out of my new car. The rain had dropped down to a small drizzle, thank God, and we went into the house. I didn't see Will, but I did see Royce taking a nap on the coffee table, a glass of spilt wine on his chest. Lauren scowled. She wasn't the biggest fan of Royce Torres, and giving his knee a hard kick was a clear indication of that.  
"I got it from an old pawn shop, Kyle. They were all pretty expensive, and they looked pretty, so I decided to get them for you boys."  
"Wait, there's two more of these?"

"Mhm. William already has his. Royce?"

The man in question kept rubbing his knee as he looked up to the women. "Just give me the ring. Thanks for the kick, by the way. Totally needed that to wake up."

The bright green box was thrown at his head, but Royce had seen this coming. He brought his hand up and caught his box, opened it, then slid the green ring on his ring finger.

"Danke, my lady." He said with as much smugness he could muster. Lauren flipped him off and went into the kitchen. When she was gone, Royce looked at his ring with a face of confusion. I could have sworn I saw his green eyes shine brighter. Before I could ask him anything, William came back into the room. I spotted his ring immediately. Bright red, and the ring was on his left ring finger. His right was, of course, occupied.

"I see that Lauren gave you two your rings." He asked us. We both nodded at him, then showed our hands to him.

I had an idea.

"Dudes, we all have these badass rings. We could be like, the Ring Brothers, right?" I asked them, waving my hand around. William shook his head, and Royce voiced his opinion with a "That's stupid."

I pressed on the idea. "C'mon, guys. It'll be fun. Come on, ring bump. Fist me, bro. Get up on in there, you two."

Disgusted, Royce got up and dragged William over to me. "Fine, Jesus Christ. Only if you stop that gay shit, Kyle."

We held out our fists to each other in a triangle formation.

"On three, we shout 'Ring Bros', alright?" I told them. They both nodded, but I could tell they weren't into this. I counted up to three, and we ring-bumped. 

If only I had known.

The minute we made contact, I felt a jolt of pain shoot through my arm. I wanted to scream, but something held me back. I looked into Will and Royce's eyes, and something told me they were going through the same thing. A dark light starting to expand from our rings, and kept getting bigger and bigger. Soon I could no longer see my friends, and darkness began to overtake me. I didn't feel tired at all. I felt like I was floating, but I also felt nothing. I could see nothing. Fear was gripping my heart. No sight, no smell, no sense of touch. Was I dead? Did that light kill me? Did it kill William and Royce?

"I will answer your questions with one word, child: No."

What the hell was that?

Who are you? I 'asked'.

" I am Eir. I am your protector."

Protector? What is going on? Where am I?

"All will be answered in due time, young one. But now, we need you to wake up."

Wake up? What do you mean wake-

"I think….-ring."

"Go-...we can ask hi….-ame from."

"-e could ju…..a drunk, B-...nal."

Barely understanding a word these two were saying, I let out a loud groan of frustration to let them know I was awake.

"We don't know that for sure, Watters. Look, I think he can hear us."

I slowly opened my eyes and met two men. One was Asian, the other African-American. The Asian man was looking at me with concern, but his friend's facial features practically spelled out 'I don't play no shit.' He scowled at me.  
"Sir, you do realize this is a restricted area. May I ask you why you thought it'd be a good idea to be resting in the lake?"  
It was then that I felt I was wet. My jeans, the bottom of my jacket and my hat were all soaked. I let the man know I was sorry as I pulled myself out of the water. He wasn't pleased.

"Sorry? Sir, you just violated one of the Citadel's laws. We're going to have to take you into C-Sec custody. Put your hands behind your head." The African American cop turns me around, and I put my hands behind my back like I was told, (William's done to me this a thousand times before.) but I don't feel the cold slap of handcuffs. Instead, I felt a cool, ticklish...thing...go around my wrist. As we walked away from the lake, I took in my surroundings for the first time. My jaw hit the floor. This Citadel or whatever the man called it was massive! Long walkways, a nice lake, corridors in every direction...did I die and get transported to some other universe? This can't possibly be the 'Heaven' that my mother always talked about. We walk by a large statue of...I don't even know what the damn thing was. I turned my head to my officer and asked him.

"Hey, uh...cop. Could you tell me what that big statue is? Because I sure as hell have no idea."

The man rolled his eyes. "Are you serious, kid? You mean to tell me that you don't know that that's the Krogan Monument? How drunk did you get?"  
I couldn't tell him that I wasn't drunk and I was transported here by a magical ring and something named Eir, so I lied.  
"Pretty damn drunk, sir."

End of Prolouge

**A/N: Hey, Fanfiction. Man, I haven't written a story in ages. Yes, this is my first story, but under this account name. I used to be known as Ghost2291, but I was disgusted by myself with how many times I failed as an author. So, new name and new beginnings. I'd like to thank DJShifty366 for being my beta-reader (you rock, dude), as well as iNf3ctioNZ for inspiring me with his Masses to Masses story. Do yourself a favor and go read that story. Stunning. Anyway, guys, this is RinnzleR, signing off. Take care, everybody.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Part One: The Peacemaker**

Chapter 2: Custody

"Dispatch, we just picked up a duct rat sleeping in the lake. Caucsian male, early twenties with blue eyes. Rockford and I are bringing him in, ETA 7 minutes. Over and out." The Asian man had brought up his arm, and out of nowhere this weird orange gauntlet thing just materialized over his arm. What kind of world did I end up in? Am I legit dead right now? I couldn't help but thinking how badass the thing was, so I asked him what it was.

"Hey, sir... exactly what _is_ that thing?" The officer, whom I'm guessing was Rockford snorted.

"You're joking, right? You mean to tell me that not only have you never heard of a Krogan, but you don't even know what an omni-tool is? Kid, you need help." I decided to let that comment go. I may not be that important in this universe, but I was well-known back in mine, so I deserve from respect. We kept walking at a steady pace, and I got to see that humans weren't the only intelligent species walking around. There were tall, metal faced avian aliens, some amphibian looking things, and...is that a human? No, no...humans aren't all just blue. And we don't have those weird tentacles coming out of our heads. This place is freaky as all hell. Apparently this universe actually has real life aliens. And the humans seem to be living peacefully with them. Thank God for that, I guess. I can only imagine how screwed we'd be if we tried to attack them. Could there be any other species around he-

"Hey! Kid! I said we're here." The three of us stopped at an elevator, and with the press of a button the sliding door went up. We stepped inside, and Rockford pressed the 'down' button. We descended in silence for a bit. This thing was taking too long for an advanced universe. Before I died of boredom, I struck up a conversation with the nicer officer.

"So, where we going, man?" I asked him, struggling with the handcuffs behind me. Rockford told me to shut up and cut it out. I stopped struggling, but I didn't stop talking.

"What? Just trying to make conversation."

"Lawbreakers don't get that right."

"Dude, I fell asleep in the lake. My bad, man. Really!"

"You want a cookie for that?"

"Screw you, too."

The elevator opened (_finally_) and we stepped out. This had to be a lobby of some sort. There was a metal-face sitting behind a table, another metal-faced aliens and a man talking near some computers and some more of the metal-faces. Rockford roughly shoved me past the alien behind the table and into a hallway, where I was directed into a room with a table and two chairs. There was a sign labeled _Interrogation Room_. Perfect, I'm going to have the shit beat out of me. Rockford removed the handcuffs, and told me to sit on one of the chairs. He also told me to empty my pockets and take off my hoodie, which I did. I only had a wallet with a good $200, my photo ID and license as well as my phone. He took them all, furrowing his brow at what I gave him. I would too, seeing as how this is 21st century stuff, and this is, what, the 22nd? Or 3rd?

"Someone will be in here soon to talk to you. You answer him politely, we see that you don't have any criminal records, and _maybe_ we'll let you out of here faster. Stay put." He said, and walked out of the room, the door sliding shut. I propped my elbows up against the table, rubbing my eyes and groaning. Where the hell was William and Royce? Will was a cop, he'd find a way to get me out of here. But we're not on Earth, or our own universe for that matter. I wanted to talk to Eir again, but before I could even think about trying to get the guy to talk, the door slid open, and one of the metal face aliens walked in. He took a seat and folded his hands on the table.

"După-amiază, puștiule." He said. I had no goddamn clue what he was saying, and that's what I said in response.

"Got no clue what the hell you're saying, sir." I don't know how he was able to understand that, but he just nodded and left the room. A few minutes later he came back in, holding a blue human shirt. He tossed it to me, and I guess I was supposed to put it on. I don't know how this is going to allow me to be able to speak whatever language this alien was speaking. As I slid the shirt over my head, I couldn't help but give the alien a sarcastic look. But to my surprise, he spoke to me in clear English.

"Can you understand me now?" he asked me, taking his seat again. I nodded, and he repeated the gesture, raising his arm as his Omni-tool flared.

"Ah, good. Now we can get down to business. From what Officer Rockford gathered from your...unusual possessions, your name is Kyle Jackson Pierce. Is this correct?"

"Yes."

"Born on October 31….1996?"

"Yes."

"You do know how long ago 1996 in Earth years was, correct? And that this is 2182?"

"Uh…186?"

"This ID is false, Pierce...if that's even your real name. Sorry, but we're going to have to keep you in for a while so we can figure out who you _really_ are." The alien got up and left the room, leaving me alone again. Well, not entirely alone. I know, or at least hope that Eir was still in my head...that sounds crazy, but I did. I needed someone, _something_ to talk to. So I started talking aloud.

"Hey, Eir? You there?"

Silence.

"Dude, I need you right now."

More silence.

"Please, Eir. Please." I started to beg. That's when I got an answer.

_**"It's about time you started to use the magic word, Kyle."**_

That's not Eir. I've only heard him talk once, but that can't be Eir. Earlier, he sounded sophisticated and classy...now he sounds like...as stupid as it sounds…me.

"Uh...Eir? That you?" I asked.

_**"Yes, it's me. Who else would it've been, Kyle? Your mother?"**_

"Ha ha, very funny. Seriously, we need to get out of this place and find my friends. I can't be stuck in here forever because I don't have a valid ID, I need to find Royce and William."

_**"Good luck with finding the former, Kyle."**_

"Good luck for finding th- what the hell are you talking about, Eir? Where are they? They aren't dead, are they?"

_**"Chill out, man. Forseti, and sadly Loki, will be looking out for the both of 'em. Someone's coming down, by the way."**_

"Forseti? Loki? Aren't those like, old Norse gods or something? What are you saying, man?" I wanted some damn answers from this entity or whatever the hell he was, but the door slid up again. Rockford and the Asian cop from earlier were there. The Asian had a smile on his face, but Rockford still had that scowl of his. They stepped in, and the Asian nodded his head, signaling me to get up. I grabbed my hoodie and slid it over my head while I stood up. They beckoned me over, and when I stepped out of the room we walked down the hallway and away from the Interrogation Rooms. That went better than I expected, I might add. Rockford was stomping ahead of us when he spoke.

"You gonna tell him, or do I have to?" I looked to the other cop, and he shrugged.

"I guess I will. You look stressed, Rockie. Take off early. I'll deal with this guy, okay?" Rockford gave another hard glare at me, then nodded at his partner. The Asian cop pulled me along, and as I was pulled past him I turned my head to him and said good-bye, and in return he told me to go fuck myself. What a nice enforcer of the law. We got back into the elevator (Oh dear God, not the elevator!) and ascended back up.

"So, uh...how's life?" I asked my 'savior'. He was fiddling with his omni-tool when I asked him, and I heard him chuckle. The orange glow disappeared, and in his hand was a gray plastic circle like object that seemed to be attached to his wrist. He then turned to me, and said to take it. I hesitated, then took the piece out of his hand and slid it around mine. It was pretty light, and soft.

"I think you'll need this more than I do, Pierce." He said, and the elevator door opened up. I stepped out, but he didn't. I turned back to him, and he smiled.

"I've updated the map to pinpoint you to a place called Chora's Den. I'll meet you there, and you and I'll have a nice little chat. I'll be there soon." Before I could ask him why he was doing this, the elevator door closed and descended back down. I mean, he seemed pretty nice, but he has to have some sort of motive for helping me out. He can't possibly know about my ring, does he? That's impossible...but I can't dwell on it now, because I have to reach this Chora's Den. As I walked in the general direction the map was pointing me to, I saw a separate tab that said 'history.' I tapped it, and to my surprise it switched from the map to something along the lines of a Wikipedia page...they call it the Extrapedia. Fancy...I can dig it. There were dozens of pages selected for me to read. A bunch of pages apparently depicted an alien race. These are the races I might encounter here! Now I _know _that the cop knows something about me. I decided to scrap the Chora's Den idea for a bit and went into a nearby shop titled Apollo's Cafe. I'd laugh at the irony of the shop's name, but then I'd look awkward to the others walking around. I take a seat in the far back, where I could get a good look at my surroundings. This place is pretty damn beautiful, I'll give this Citadel that.

The first page that I opened was about the metal-faces, or the Turians. These aliens seem to be all about war. Their culture is based on it, I've located about three wars in their history section (one amongst themselves, another with the Krogans, and the final one with humans.) Unification war, Krogan Rebellions and First Contact respectively. Krogan Rebellions? What, were these Turians the most oppressive race in this universe? They seem to get along pretty well. The next race I studied were the Salarians. These were the lizard looking aliens I saw earlier. They can run on about one hour of sleep per day, with a major drawback. Only being able to live up to 40 years? That's actually kinda depressing. Their entire lifestyle seems to be based around science and science alone. They don't seem to be very religious...some Salarians apparently believe in the wheel of life. Hinduism being favored by an entirely different scientific loving race of aliens? Who would have pictured that?

Quarians. I haven't seen any in this place...either they're entirely wiped out or just not allowed here. The Quarians were exiled from their home planet by a race called the Geth. The Geth are...entirely synthetic? They must be pretty damn powerful machines if they can expel an entire race off of their own world. Poor aliens.

I spent hours in that cafe, studying more alien races like the Krogan, Batarians, Volus, Elcor and Hanar, as well as the beautiful Asari...did I just call an alien woman beautiful? I need to get out of here, and fast. There was another alien race that were called Protheans, but they were wiped out by an unknown cause. Strange. But who really cares? I was supposed to meet that cop over at Chora's Den. I got up from my table and left the area. The place was a little bit darker from when I first sat down, but it wasn't totally dark. I opened the map again with a touch of a finger. These Omni-tools are pretty easy to use, actually. I must not have been paying that much attention to where I was going, because I bumped into somebody. I looked up into multiple human faces staring down at me. These gentlemen didn't look that friendly. I offered a smile and a small laugh.

"Heh, sorry fellas. Should have been looking where I was going." I said, about to walk around the group when one of the put his arm in my way. Dammit.

"You're damn right you should have been looking where you were going." The one I bumped into had turned me around to face him. He had bright blue eyes like mine, with short, cropped brown hair. He had some growing stubble and really,_ really_ bad breath. He sized me up and down, then smiled.

"Where'd you get those clothes, kid? Certainly not from around here."

"Uh, yeah. I just got here. These clothes were from a vintage store back on Earth."

"Really? They look like they're worth a lot of credits…"

"I mean, I guess…?"

"Alright, kid. Hand 'em over." I knew it., I _fucking knew it!_

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Hand the clothes over." He reached behind his back and pulled out something. It's a gun! He pulled a _gun_ on me! I'm getting _robbed_! Great, Kyle. Just great. I put my hands up and tried to back away.

"Alright, gentlemen. We don't need to do this."

"Do I have to repeat myself a third time, boy?" He shook the gun for emphasis.

"But these are the only things I have!"

"Hand them the fuck over _now_!" His arm swayed a bit, and I took my chance. Remembering what Royce had showed me once, I brought my leg up as high as I could and kicked the gun out of his hand, then turned back around and bolted through the group of thugs. I heard the leader shout for his goons to catch me and felt a hand brush my shoulder, but I kept running. The omni-tool was saying that I was running in the right direction. There were shouts and curses flying in the air as I pushed my way through crowds of aliens. Looking back, I saw that I was pretty far away from them. A Turian even tried to stop the thugs chasing me, but they blew right past him, one hitting him in the throat. Poor guy. I took a left, flinching when a purple flash of light burst near me. It looked like a hologram of an Asari. No time to go back and investigate, though. I kept running and running, taking so many turns that I thought we were going in circles, but I was getting tired and knew that the thugs behind me would catch up sooner or later. Then I saw something that made my heart leap. The Asian cop. He was leaning against a wall a railing, looking worried. He wasn't worried about me, was he? I ran faster, calling out to him. The cop turned to where he heard the voice and smiled. Then he frowned. He must have seen the thugs behind me. Before I could say anything, there was a loud BANG, and I felt something hot and hard hit the back of my knee. I fell flat on my face and curled up, shouting in pain. Did I get shot? Did the leader finally catch up? I looked up, tears blinding me just a little. I could see the cop had pulled out his own gun and was firing at the thugs. I could hear one shout in pain, and another one telling the others to fall back. The cop kept shooting, taunting them.

"And if I _ever_ see your faces again, you'll regret it!" He shouted. The cop lowered the gun, the pistol compressing in on itself and sticking to his hip. He walked over over to me, worry stretched across his face. He brought out an omni-tool, waved it around my knee and I could feel a cool, tingling sensation. It felt really good. I looked at my savior and gave him a questioning look.

"Omni-gel, kid. Doesn't do that much, but it'll numb the pain for now until we get you to a doctor." He said, helping me stand on my feet. I don't put too much pressure on my leg as I limp out of the area, frowning at the dead body of one of the thugs. Couldn't have been older than me by a couple years. He must have been killed during the fight. I want to say serves him right... but still…

"I'm gonna take you to a Med-Clinic. Huerta Hospital's too far away. Dr. Michel will patch you up." I nod, too focused on the pain in my knee. I wonder if Eir felt it as well.

Something popped into my head. A question; one that I meant to ask him awhile ago.

"I never got your name, sir."

He looks at me, then chuckles.

"Sorry, kid. Where are my manners, right? My name's Norman. Norman Pierce."

**To be continued…**

_**A/N: Evening, ladies and gents. Me again. Just wanted to leave a friendly Happy Halloween. Hope you got some nice goodies. And Happy Birthday to my fellow Halloween babies. We get candy and presents on the same damn night. Go us!**_

_**Thanks again to DJ Shifty for the beta-read.**_


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